


For the Rest of Our Lives

by Valgus



Series: Words of Nations [13]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Also contains FrUK and JapUK if you squint., Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Coping, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valgus/pseuds/Valgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England disappeared after he lost his empire and America couldn't take that.</p><p>He thought he never would.</p><p>But then a certain rain spirit named Arthur came into the picture and America was happy once again.</p><p>After all, rain would always be around, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Rest of Our Lives

**Author's Note:**

> I have a feeling that the summary didn't really describe the content because it's different type of summary format from what I usually use, but I hope it's true enough to "For the Rest of Our Lives". (The title is taken from Birdy's "Wings", by the way.)
> 
> This is another result of "thinking about USUK before bed and an idea was born and I couldn't sleep until I write it down" that I'm a quite proud of.
> 
> Angst ensues. I apologise in advance.

After losing the first World War from Germany, England lost his empire.

America arrived too late to save his former parent.

It was now 2015 and it was almost a hundred years since the first World War ended in 1918. Yet, America couldn't still look Germany in the eyes without wanting to strangle the taller nation, because Germany didn't only made England lost his empire.

He also made England lost his life.

*)*

How does a nation cease?

Long time ago, America asked that question to himself. The first person who came to mind was England, because who else could answer such question while understanding America almost fully? But it was only a couple of decades since America declared his independence and it was as possible as going to the moon in 1800s for America to talk to England, even through letters that took ages to reach the other side of the ocean.

England understood America and America knew that.

He knew that too well. He also knew why England didn't shoot him that time. 

Because he was the same person who told America that as a nation, it was very important to protect one's people- even if that means protecting America from the person he loved the most in the world.

How does a nation cease?

America was no longer a spring chicken, yet he still had no idea how mortality works for creatures like him. He tried to ask China once, but the oldest nation America knew only shook his head and smiled. Japan gave similar gesture as answer. Roman Empire even visited him in his dream once and he gave America the same smile that China and Japan gave him.

"But you've been dead once. You know how does it happen. Dude, you _are_ dead now. Can you just tell me how it works?" America still remember his plead.

But Roman Empire only smiled. 

The dream ended with the brown-haired nation told America to "take care of his nosy grandsons" and America woke up like he just ran a thousand miles.

How does a nation cease?

America wanted to know.

America wanted to know so badly.

America needed to know what happened to England and where he was right now.

*)*

France was England's best friend who was also his worst enemy, so America had been delaying his question to France for almost a whole century.

But when America did finally visit France two days after England's birthday, France was ready with a bottle of wine to ease their tongues and a sad smile on his lips.

The wine tasted strangely awful. It tasted like burnt pastry. France laughed at America's remark.

"This was one of the last England's wines. Terrible, aren't they?" the shoulder-length haired nation chuckle. He then took his gaze away from America and covered his eyes with his palm. 

America sipped the wine slowly and recalled the taste that might as well be named 'His Childhood' because that was the kind of taste that England raised him with.

England raised him.

England.

_England._

He was America's father, friend, enemy, and also lover.

What was England for France?

What happened between them long before America was born?

What kind of figure France lost when England disappeared that day?

America put his wine glass and looked around. France did say he kept some of the last England's wines and America quickly spotted the beautiful wine rack where France stored England's wines. Even from miles, America could see the picture at the labels and could tell that they're England's.

France still said nothing, so America cleaned his glasses and stared at the wine rack. It looked more like a small shrine to worship England and America would laughed at such thought if only he weren't realising how clean the rack was. The wood was better than any wood in the room and it was spotless. Hell, America was even sure that if nuclear destroyed this planet, this beautiful wine rack would stay still.

Judging from the arranging as well, there was seven bottles previously, before France took one to enjoy with America that night.

France never took any of England's wine until America's arrival.

America turned his head to the European nation, who still covered his eyes with his palm. The part of his face that wasn't covered with his hand like his cheeks were glistening with tears.

France still didn't show his face to America.

"You're not the only grieving, you know," he said, in a voice so hoarse and unlike France that America wouldn't believe it was him if he weren't sitting there in the same room. France suddenly laughed and laughed and America could only hear France's throat getting drier as his laughter spelled 'despair'. "You're not the only grieving, America. I would never admit this to him, not in a thousand years, not in a million years, but I love him so fucking much and it would take another thousand years without him for me to not waking up remembering him."

America had to take off his glasses.

Crying was always awful for someone with glasses.

*)*

America woke up to a rainy morning one day in fall. Autumn. Fall. Autumn. Why did he call the season fall? Like he took out 'u' from words like 'colour', America felt like he was unnecessary rebelling from England. 

He stood up, washed his face, brushed his teeth, made himself a cup of coffee, and read his day's schedule. Some paper works for the day and then formal dinner with some senators. He sipped his coffee by the window, watching the rain coloured his world.

It would be another rainy morning, if only someone wasn't there on his second-floor porch.

"Yo!" America opened the door to the porch. "Trespassing is _not_ cool, Dude! And also, do you have any idea that you just trespassed the house of the United States of America-"

The person on his porch turned his head around.

Pale blond hair, bushy eyebrows, and eyes as green as forest on spring.

It was England.

"England?" America wasn't even sure he uttered those words. His coffee fell to the floor, burned his feet, but America couldn't feel a thing. 

England stood there on the rain, soaked from head to toe, and wearing something that looked like a very strange mix of raincoat with Argyle pattern. He looked at America with eyebrows raised, "You can see me."

"What?" America was practically breathless.

"You can see me," repeated England, in his usual grumpy voice.

America didn't know whether the rain was blurring his vision or whether he was crying, "Yes, of course I can! You're England, right? England, what are you doing here? You've been gone for ages... oh God..."

But England only furrowed his eyebrows, "I think you're confused, Sir. I am not this 'England'. Beside, you're referring to a dead country, correct?"

The phrase 'dead country' hit America harder than he thought that he was surprised his knee didn't suddenly give up on him or gave him a heart attack, "You're not England?"

The England-look alike shook his head, "My name is Arthur and I'm the rain spirit."

*)*

America laughed almost maniacally, "I don't understand how that works... Arthur."

Arthur shrugged, "I make rain come. I'm sure even a kid can understand this."

America looked at this 'Arthur' and blinked, "Prove it to me."

Arthur sighed, but glanced at the sky and suddenly the rain was pouring harder than ever, with winds and thunders on the distance.

America knew for sure there would be a tornado come if he didn't beg for Arthur to stop. Now it was only fairy, light rain that fell upon them and America knew he was crying, because the water from his eyes were so much heavier than the one on his hands and feet.

"You're not England," he laughed, more to himself.

Arthur just shrugged again, but he muttered, "I'm sorry."

America shook his head, "It's not your fault. I just..." 'thought he came back.'

There were countless nights where America woke up, shuddering and crying, screaming and kicking to the universe, wishing that England would come back.

Arthur hopped to the railing of his porch so easily, "Well, I have to make it rain in other place now. I guess I'll see you later."

America only realised that Arthur was gone when sun appeared behind the clouds.

*)*

America did see Arthur later that night. Rain fell right after he stepped back into his home. After shower, America found Arthur on his porch once again.

They had a delightful long chat until two in the morning by the rain on so many things. Arthur was just exactly like England; the accent, the remarks, the fondness of the rain (well, he was a rain spirit, after all), and to the way he smiled when America said something relatively stupid.

Arthur was just exactly like England, except that he wasn't England.

Because England is dead and he would never return.

America would never see England again.

The thought made him sobbing again, but it felt better because there was someone there and that someone care, even though Arthur made it clear that he wasn't care about anything but rain in all over the world.

Arthur waited until America stopped crying and mumbled, "You really miss this 'England', huh?"

America chuckled as he wiped his face roughly with the sleeve of his jumper.

"I miss him more than life, Arthur."

*)*

Arthur visited America for another whole year before he suddenly didn't come one day. Rain still fell, but Arthur wasn't there. America waited and called for the rain spirit, but Arthur didn't appear.

It took America another year to give up to see the perfect image of England when it rains.

*)*

After a world conference on Japan's place, America stayed at his place to enjoy hot spring and some tasty Japanese food.

Japan didn't seem to mind- or if he did, America wouldn't know. He had great bath and eat at least three portions of sushi before sitting on the porch next to Japanese garden with Japan, who was on his kimono and burned something on pig-shaped ceramic to prevent mosquito on the summer.

"Man, summer in your place is sure fun," America commented.

Japan smiled slightly, "I like it better when it rains, to be quite honest."

America didn't say anything for the rest of the night except when he excused himself for bed.

*)*

It was late when America woke up to use the bathroom.

He went through dark corridors in the Japanese traditional house and felt like he was a little too tall to use such facility.

He was lost for a while and entered a room that looked like a very tidy storage (at least compared to America's storage). There was some little stuffs in there, like Iceland's penguin in form of tiny statue made of wood, a miniature of Eiffel Tower, and what looked like very old samurai sword. Everything looked like a genuine souvenir except a pair of tea cup and saucer that looked extremely ordinary.

America held the set on his hand and put it back.

In his way back to his bedroom, he passed through the Japanese garden and realised that among sands and rocks with Japanese plants, there was small red rose tree that looked extremely out of place. America didn't know that Japan liked rose or any Western rose in general.

He got a closer look the rose and realised how old the plant was.

It was a gift, America suddenly realised. The rose was a gift from someone and Japan kept them regarding the theme of his garden.

America had heard this story on how Japan had a guest who saw Japanese mythical creature on the hot spring.

America knew exactly who the guest was.

It was the owner of tea cup and saucer in the souvenir room and also the person who gave Japan the red rose.

America might be hallucinating out of sleepiness, but he believed he could hear Japan sniffled on his sleep that night.

His sobs sounded something a little like 'Igirisu'.

And America knew he wasn't absolutely alone on his grief.

*)*

He visited Japan's house again when it was the wet season. 

America watched the stoic nation who didn't exactly say what's on his mind sipping a green tea while America was settled with a bottle of Coke. They sat on the same porch, but now they watched the rain fell on Japan's garden.

"Thank God it rains," America chuckled. "You like rain, don't you, Japan?"

Japan gave America his solemn smile, "Yes."

America watched rain watered the rose shrub.

"'God is in the rain'," he muttered to himself.

Japan tilted his head slowly to America's direction, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, no, it's just... this quote from a very cool graphic novel," America chuckled. "American graphic novel, though it was set in England. It's called 'V for Vendetta'. It says there that God is in the rain."

Looking at Japan, America could almost read his expression as 'Well my God is in the sun', but Japan made a very weird smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Maybe God is in the rain," Japan mumbled, sipping his tea again.

America mumbled a "Yeah" in return.

Arthur never returned to America's life, so did England.

But rain was there. Rain would always be there for the rest of their lives.

America met England. And he lost England. So that was the story.

And frankly, America felt like the luckiest country ever existed.


End file.
